Chapter 4
"I can't…." Castiel started to explain, shaking his head.
"WHY NOT?!" Sam shot back.
"It's okay, Sammy." Dean stated.
"No, no it's not okay. And don't call me…." Sam said, spinning around. He stopped when he realized whose voice he had just heard in the empty space.
Sam looked around the room again. "Dean! Dean! Where are you?"
"Right here, Sam." Dean stated. He was standing two feet away from the younger Winchester. But he still could not be seen.
"I'm not…." Sam shook his head as the reality hit him. He was alone. Tears came to his eyes. He quickly brushed them away. "You can't leave like this!"
"Cas! Do something!" The young Winchester said, turning to the angel.
Castiel shook his head. Angel radio was screaming in his ears. "This…I can't…the archangels have told me that I can't interfere. I can't go against…."
Sam shook his head vigorously. "Why do the archangels care about Dean Winchester?"
"What's dead should stay dead, Sammy." Dean replied. He had said that numerous times before. And apparently, this time, it stuck.
"You've said that before, Dean!" Sam protested through his tears. "Why now?"
Sam then turned to the angel.
Castiel had no answers for the young Winchester. And he wished he could do something, anything to ease the young man's pain.
"What now, Dean?" Sam asked, speaking to the air. "What am I supposed to do now?" He wiped the tears from his eyes. "What?"
Dean didn't speak. He had always thought that death would hold some answers. But death had given him no great insights, thus far.
Sam continued. "Do I just wander around this place talking to you…from the ether and slowly go insane, Dean? Is that what's going to happen to me? Is that what you see for my future?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know, Sam."
"What do you mean, you don't know!" Sam asked getting angry.
"I don't know." The elder Winchester repeated.
"DO SOMETHING, CAS!" Bring him back!"
Castiel shook his head.
"Go! Get out of here!" Sam screamed. "You can't help me, you can leave!"
Dean's body was found 4 days after the accident, and it took a couple of days to identify. The false IDs in the glove compartment had not helped the situation, and had slowed down identification. Sam hadn't really believed it until he had seen a news broadcast looking for identification of a deceased accident victim. He saw the composite and that was when he had to accept the reality of the situation. After that, it had taken the younger Winchester nearly two weeks before he could bring himself to tell anyone. He still heard Dean's voice. But he was drinking so much these days, he just chalked it up to his inebriation.
Jodi had been the one to physically identify Dean's body. He had been in her county when he had wrecked. She had been notified by a deputy that there had been a vehicular fatality. They had not been able to search the body due to its position in the car to find any identification. But they had searched for a registration in the glove compartment and had come across nearly a dozen fake IDs. It had been the description of the driver, along with that of the car that had made Jodi's blood run cold. She shook her head as tears flooded her eyes. She quickly wiped her tears away and stilled herself. Regardless of her personal feelings, she had a job to do. She cleared her throat, and continued to listen to the deputy's findings.
Jodi stood at the doors to the morgue for a good 10 minutes. And even then she had to force herself to open the door. She had to will her feet to move forward. She considered turning around, many times. After all, ignorance was bliss, right? But she had to do this. The very idea of Dean Winchester lying in the morgue as a John Doe, hurt her heart. He had been too good of a friend to her for her to do that to him, or to Sam. She shook her head and sighed as more tears flowed down her cheeks.
There was a chance, however remote, that Dean Winchester would not be lying on the table under the white sheet that she was now facing. She stared at the sheet. She didn't know how long she stood there. The next thing she knew her hand was grabbing the sheet, pulling it down. She dropped the sheet when she saw Dean's face. His face had been cleaned to make identification easier. But that also made the cuts and gashes on his face more noticeable. She looked at his chest. The button-down shirt he had on was torn open. The t-shirt he had on beneath that was ripped in spots, allowing Jodi to see the beginnings of bruises on his chest. That meant he had not died immediately. Meaning he may have suffered for hours, unable to move, unable to get out of the car. It tore at her heart to think of the pain he must have suffered, out there all alone. She backed up until she felt the wall behind her. She then slid down and covered her face with her hands as the reality hit her. A few minutes later she pushed herself back up the wall and stood. She walked over to his body and looked at him again. She had to make sure, her hand was shaking as she touched his face. His skin was cold. But it was Dean. Dean Winchester was dead.
Jodi left the room in a daze. How was she going to tell her girls about Dean? And Donna? And what about Sam? Her deputy had not mentioned anyone else being in or around the car. So, she had to assume Sam hadn't been there and didn't know about Dean.
TBC